I do not own Enslaved: Odyssey to the West. I do own Core and her back story and the parts of the plot that aren't in the game. This fic spawned largely from my dissatisfaction with the ending of the game. It was an awesome game and I didn't want it to end. So I decided to write a fic. It's rated for language and violence mostly, but also for some sexual scenes.

Enslaved: Marks of the Past.
Chapter Two: You Again.

"Did I do the right thing?"

He shook his head, pulling the mask from his face as he did so.

"Did I do the right thing?"

The machine where Pyramid had been hook up was sparking, black goo leaking from all sides. The ruined husk of the ancient man was hanging by one wire, his skin covered in the black substance and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

"Monkey... Did I do the right thing?"

Monkey finally looked at Trip and didn't know what to tell her. He had put the mask on—seen the word the so-called slaves were living in. It wasn't so bad... in fact, it was beautiful. It was bright and whole and quiet. There was no fighting, no mechs, and no horror. The people he had seen were holding hands, smiling and enjoying themselves. Pyramid had said they had jobs, marriages, families—real lives. Monkey couldn't deny the thought appealed to some part of him, but Pyramid had always been the enemy. Was he still the enemy? Was what he'd done wrong?

Had Trip done the right thing?

He just didn't know.

So he didn't say anything.

Monkey just turned and started walking back to the door. He very much wished he could tell Trip she'd been right, to tell her the world had been horrible and she was saving those people. He wanted to make her smile, but he just couldn't bring himself to lie.

The first thing he'd seen when he put the mask on was just white light. Before he could really be confused though, it resolved into a skyline—tall buildings, shimmering in the sun on an island surrounded by crystal water. There were trees and birds, just like there were in his world, but Monkey noted the absence of fear. The scene changed and he saw children playing in a park, running and laughing as their parents watched, smiles on their faces. Again, the view changed. Monkey was watching a group of people sitting around a table, talking and pointing at pictures. They laughed. The scene changed. A familiar-looking woman running down the street, a very determined look on her face. An artist, painting by the ocean. People swimming and lying on the beach...

He wished he could forget it all. There was no point in dwelling anyway—Trip had destroyed it—but more than that, he just didn't want to remember what could have been, what they had taken from all the people surrounding them; he wanted to forget that face. Monkey shook his head, trying to get the images out.

"Monkey?"

He looked over his shoulder at Trip, who had a worried look on her face. "Let's just go, Trip," he said, his voice sounding as tired as he felt. "I don't want to hang around here any longer."

"But..."

"I just want to get out of here."

"Okay."

He waited for her to catch up before he walked any farther. They made their way down the long, thin raised platform in silence, their heads swivelling, taking in what was going on in the depressions around them. Monkey couldn't grasp how many people were inside the building. There seemed to be an array of raised platforms stretching out in all directions, and between the platforms there were people, standing exactly the same distance apart and, when they'd been connection to Pyramid, they'd been completely still.

Currently, the slaves were pulling off their helmets, looking around and wondering where they were. The silence that had pervaded the massive building before was slowly crumbling as mumbling increased. There were cries of frustration, alarm, anger, happiness and other things Monkey couldn't identify. People were stumbling around, confused and disoriented while others still were running into the arms of loved ones they thought they'd never see again. People were calling out names of those they hoped to find. To his right, a young mother swept her son into her arms—a kid, just a kid and separated from his family for who knew how long—and an older couple embraced, weeping openly. To his left, someone screamed the loss of what they'd had, of their life in the Pyramid world.

Apparently, those who had been freed of the machine couldn't decide if they were upset or glad of their situation either.

Monkey couldn't help it—he looked sideways at Trip. She was slowly turning as she walked, mouth open and eyes scanning the massive crowd, looking for familiar faces—probably her friend Mark, who had liked bridges, or someone else from her colony. At the thought of Trip finding someone she'd thought she'd lost, someone she'd cared about, Monkey had to look. It was very unlikely that he would see anyone he knew, but when he had had the mask on, he'd thought he'd seen...

No, it was impossible.

Monkey didn't look. He just kept walking, listening and trying not to remember what he'd seen.

A few moments later, a loud and rough coughing reached Monkey's ears. He stopped and turned to check on Trip; the coughing was close. But she was fine and also looking around for the source of the noise. She liked to help anyone she could. The coughing grew worse and then abruptly stopped. Monkey started walking again and heard Trip follow behind him.

Trip's scream a second later stopped him dead.

"Command: help me!"

He would have done it without the command of the slave headband, but as it was, it turned him and he ran back to the young woman, who was currently struggling a woman in a ripped Pyramid jumpsuit who had wrapped herself around Trip tight enough to keep her from moving. The would-be attacker was muttering something incoherent and sobbing at intermittent points, her messy and matted hair flying all over the place as Trip struggled and her strong arms tightening with every movement.

Monkey nearly froze at the sight of the blue-tipped dreadlocks, but the slave headband forced him on. He let it happen—he didn't want to experience the pain the headband brought on when he fought it. Even before he pulled the woman's head back and pried her from Trip, he knew what he'd find, knew that he's see her face and knew that he had seen her in the Pyramid world.

But she had died.

She couldn't be here.

He'd watched a mech shove its sword-like hand into her stomach. He'd watched her die. He'd watched the mechs murder her and her whole family. He'd watched her struggle; gone to her side and listened to her gasp and ask him to help. There'd been nothing he could do for her at the time and he'd hated leaving her, but he had. He didn't want to die or get captured. He'd left.

They must have taken her after that.

Monkey stared at the woman for a moment as Trip struggled, begging to him to do something. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't prepared for this. For fighting mechs and taking down Pyramid, he was prepared, but not for this, not for facing someone he'd thought was dead, someone he'd thought he'd lost. He grabbed one arm and pulled it off Trip. He slid his other arm around the woman's waist and wedged her backwards. With a loud sob, the woman let go and turned her attention to Monkey instead.

"Monkey!" she shrieked upon seeing him, voice halfway between happy and distraught. She promptly latched herself to him instead, arms and legs wrapped around his strong frame. She was still sobbing, her face pressed into Monkey's neck.

Trip looked confused and she held Monkey's gaze for a moment, asking him silently to tell her what was going on.

He didn't.

"Core," he breathed, more than a little shaken by the woman's sudden reappearance. He readjusted his hold on her, taking a few steps back as he did so; he could feel rough scars on her back through the jumpsuit. "Core."

He hugged her tighter, Trip, for the moment, forgotten behind him.

Author's Note.

So, I was super surprised by the reaction to this fic.

I am pleased! Glad you like it!

Hope you like this chapter too. Enjoy.

Next Chapter: Complications.